


No Trust

by taylor_tut



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Fever, Gen, Infection, Sick Character, Sick izaya, Sickfic, Whump, izaya whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A fic based on the following prompt: YOOOO can I order 1 Izaya from Drrr! and for my side side can I get an infected wound, and I’d like to finish that with a to drink of him possibly collapsing and being found by Shinra or Shizuo and waking up confused and fevered? :3c





	No Trust

FIC MACHINE BROKE

I’m joking I just love the way you phrased this. Here is a fic!! It’s little but I hope you like it because I sure like you!!

* * *

 

Izaya stumbled into the alley, knowing that if Shizuo saw him here, he’d fuck him up for sure. Normally, this would be something he’d look forward to–something like a game of sorts, the reason that Izaya didn’t have to get a gym membership, he sometimes joked with himself.

However, his last match with Shizuo had left him with a nasty gash, which just so happened to be in the shape of the corner of a vending machine–I wonder how  _that_  happened?–and with Shinra out of town that day, he’d neglected to do more than wrap it in some gauze and go to sleep.

Surprise, surprise, the vending machine hadn’t been the cleanest surface that could have punctured his skin, and it had quickly become infected, turning red and hot and painful. 

Now, after just barely finishing up his business in Ikebukuro without fainting from the fever and pain, Izaya knew that he was not going to be able to walk all the way back to his apartment. He couldn’t afford to just hang out in the open here. There were too many people who would be all too eager to jump at the chance to kill him. 

He leaned heavily on the dumpster, gagging unproductively a few times and wiping sweat from his forehead before leaning his back against the dumpster wall and sliding down. Pressing a hand to his side, he stared as the red-coated fingers blurred in and out of his field of vision. Shit. The wound had reopened. How had he even done that?

“IzayaaaAAAAAAAA!” 

Izaya cringed–fuck. Busted. 

“I thought I told you to stay out of Ikebukuro, you shitty flea,” Shizuo taunted. He sounded mad. Not that he didn’t  _always_  sound mad, but sometimes there was a hint of teasing in his voice, or some small sense that he was enjoying their game a little more than he was letting on, but not this time. 

Izaya sighed easily. “Shizu-chan,” he drawled, “I’m just leaving.” He needed to look casual, but he also knew that he was in no state to keep up the charade for long, and he needed to get out of here.

“Really,” Shizuo challenged, “because you look too suspicious for someone who’s leaving.”

“You always think I look suspicious,” Izaya argued with a fake pout, “no trust.”

Shizuo barked a humorless laugh. “That’s because you’re always  _doing_  something suspicious,” he reasoned. Well, Shizu-chan had him there. 

Izaya tried to look up at Shizuo, to make eye contact and intimidate him, or to tease him enough that it’d provide a distraction, but as soon as he glanced up, he realized that almost all of his vision was encompassed by a black haze. It was too thick to see, and so his eyes darted wildly trying to find his face.

“What the hell are you looking at, Flea?” Izaya had heard the words before, but never with that kind of inflection. It had always been a taunt, but this was just flat curious. 

Before Izaya could think of a lie, his body went slack, dropping his head to his chest and forcing his eyes shut.

“What the hell?!” Shizuo gasped. He kicked at Izaya, thinking it was some kind of trap, but instead of jumping up with a knife, he just lilted to one side and lay unconscious on the ground, his face red and flushed. Shizuo saw for the first time that Izaya’s hand was stained with blood.

“I knew you were up to something shady,” Shizuo muttered, but all the same, he knelt down and bagan probing his body for injuries. He stopped when his hand touched a wet spot and pulled away red. 

Rolling up the shirt, he realized that the wound wasn’t fresh. It was still seeping, but it was several days poorly healed, and it looked to be badly infected. His hand pressed to Izaya’s forehead and felt a mild panic crop up when he felt the heat radiating beneath it. 

“Fuck, flea,” he hissed, “you really did it this time.” 

Izaya began to stir, so Shizuo drew his hand back quickly. 

“Shizu…” he began blearily, seeming confused, “where… wha’?”

“You passed out in the alley, you stupid fluckin’ flea,” he grumbled. “You need to go to Shinra. Why didn’t you do that straight away?”

“Are’ya mad at me?”

That.

Was not what he was expectign. 

“Why does that matter?” 

“You don’t hav’ta help me,” he slurred.

“Right, so you just wanna die here in this alley?”

Izaya looked away, but seemd to be gaining a little lucidity. 

“I’d be fine alone,” he argued. 

“Right, you look like that was going really well for you before,” Shizuo rolled his eyes. Without another word, he turned around, squatting down with his back to Izaya. “Well? Are you gonna hop on, or am I gonna have to carry you to Shinra’s?”

Izaya hesitated, but eventually allowed Shizuo to carry him in a piggy-back fashion.

“God, you’re really hot,” Shizuo muttered after a few minutes of carrying him, and Izaya nearly fell off.

“What?!” he yelped.

“Not like that, you dumbass,” Shizuo huffed. “I mean the fever. You’re really shitty at taking care of yourself, you know that?”

Izaya didn’t reply, but Shizuo didn’t push the issue further, assuming that Shinra would give him the full lecture while he patched him up. When Izaya went slack against his back, he really started to sprint.

Hopefully Izaya wouldn’t remember this.


End file.
